The neon haze of Balmung’s undercity clung to Veyra like a second skin, its flickering lights painting her crimson scales in shades of electric blue and violet. Once, her Rava heritage—those proud, towering ears and lithe, muscular frame—had marked her as a daughter of the Verdant Clan, keepers of the old forest rites. Now, disowned and cast out for her defiance, her unique futa nature a whispered scandal, she was just another shadow in the urban sprawl.Her clan’s rejection stung worse than the cold biting through her tattered cloak. “Unnatural,” they’d called her, their voices sharp as ritual daggers. Stripped of her name, her home, she’d drifted to Balmung, where the streets didn’t care who you were as long as you paid your way. But gil didn’t come easy for an exile with no trade but her body.The alley reeked of cheap sake and desperation. Veyra leaned against a graffiti-scarred wall, her tail flicking as she scanned the crowd. Catboys—Miqo’te, with their sleek black fur and glowing eyes—prowled the corners, their tails swaying like promises. They were Balmung’s nightlife currency, and Veyra had learned fast: charm them, bed them, and they’d slip you enough coin to eat another day. It wasn’t prideful work, but it was survival.“Hey, Red,” purred a voice. A Miqo’te named Kael stepped from the shadows, his black ears twitching. He was a regular—cocky, but kinder than most. “Rough night?”Veyra smirked, masking the ache in her chest. “Rough life. You buying or just talking?”Kael’s grin widened, but his eyes softened. He tossed her a small pouch of gil. “Heard about your clan. Tough break. You don’t belong here, you know.”She caught the pouch, her claws grazing the leather. “Nowhere else to go.”He stepped closer, his tail brushing her leg. “Could come with me. Leave this pit. I know a crew—smugglers, but they’re family. No judgment.”Veyra’s heart thudded. A way out? Or another trap? She studied Kael’s face, searching for lies in his slitted pupils. The streets had taught her trust was a luxury she couldn’t afford. But his offer lingered, a flicker of hope in Balmung’s endless night.“Think about it,” Kael said, slipping back into the crowd. “You’re more than this, Red.”Alone again, Veyra clutched the gil, her reflection distorted in a nearby puddle. The clan’s rejection echoed in her mind, but so did Kael’s words. She wasn’t just an exile, a hustler, a scandal. She was Veyra, and maybe—just maybe—she could claw her way to something better.The neon buzzed above. She straightened, tail lashing, and stepped into the night, chasing a future she’d forge herself.